


Phantasms

by halfpastmorrow



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:18:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpastmorrow/pseuds/halfpastmorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus doesn't need a whip.  Legilimency and Sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phantasms

Even couched as a request, the command caught Severus's attention. Apparently, it was going to be one of _those_ evenings. He shivered, desire sparking within him, and hurried to do as he had been bid, slowing only to draw his fingers across the man's naked hip as he pulled away.

The flimsy material of his bathrobe flapped against his calves as he strode across the room, and clung to his thighs when he tangled his fingers in it, gathering it about his hips. When he reached the foot of the bed, he stopped and sank slowly to his knees, displaying with each movement a sinuous ease that bespoke decades of practice. Then he let the bathrobe fall and puddle around his splayed thighs while he bent his upper body forward, placing one hand on the edge of the brocade coverlet and the other on the bedpost to support himself. He tilted his head downward and fixed his eyes on the floor, positioning himself just _so_ in a manner that was calculated to please.

"Perfect," said Albus, cupping Severus' cheek in one hand.

Severus didn't say anything -- he never did -- but leant into the gesture, completing this part of the ritual.

The fringe of hair that fell about his face limited his vision almost as effectively as a blindfold. Though he couldn't see anything but the few tantalising glimpses of flesh flickering at the edges of his vision, he was acutely aware of Albus kneeling beside him.

He didn't turn his head. He didn't need to. He knew without watching that the old man had lost some of his former grace. He knew Albus would need to lean on the bed to steady himself as he knelt. That the bed would sink a little lower beneath Albus' hand tonight, taking more of his weight than the last time.

He found a peculiar comfort in knowing that life moved on.

He felt hands too gentle to satisfy glide over the satiny finish of his bathrobe. One hand found its way back to his face, and catching his chin, guided his head around so that Albus could claim his mouth. Albus's other hand slid down his chest and tugged loose the knot of material holding his robe closed.

Severus was naked underneath and hard without any stimulation beyond his imagination. A fact laid bare for Albus when he slipped a hand beneath the hem and stroked Severus' inner thigh. Albus delicately fondled his balls and grazed the length of his prick. But it wasn't what he needed.

Albus's tongue teased at his mouth, which opened on an appreciative groan as his nipple was pinched. He surrendered to the pressure of the slick tongue that entered, sucking it enthusiastically while roughened fingers pinched his nipple again.

Severus sighed in protest when Albus released his mouth, disappointed until he felt the moist heat on his neck instead. Still focused on every movement his lover made, he felt Albus shuffle around behind him, leaving a trail of kisses as he went. Sweet, soft kisses that weren't at all what he wanted. But his belly fluttered with nervous expectation because he knew Albus's power lay in his mind.

Albus's arms encircled him, his hands grasping Severus's forearms. Then they slid up and around to the collar, dragging it down and exposing Severus's back and the welter of silver scars that lay there. As Albus moved lower, Severus's toes curled involuntarily with the barely-felt brush of Albus's beard across the sensitive skin of his instep.

Albus drew the robe down further, his hot mouth tracing each scar deliberately. His tongue burned like a lick of fire across Severus' skin, the briefest touch to each wound releasing a half-formed image as though the memories themselves had been scored into his skin. And although Severus shuddered with each touch, Albus, who knew how each scar had been formed, didn't miss a single one.

Albus's hands gripped Severus's hips tenderly as he continued to mouth at his lower back. When the robe would finally go no lower, Albus nipped him in frustration and then uttered a barely audible whisper that denuded him completely.

He shivered again, so caught up in his anticipation that when slick fingers circled his anus, he realised he hadn't even heard the whisper of the spell that had lubricated them.

"I want to see you," Albus sighed, draping himself against Severus as his fingers circled more insistently.

Knowing that Albus wasn't talking about his body, Severus groaned and spread open his mind.

"Legilimens," Albus whispered, and reached out to breach Severus' consciousness as his slick fingers breached his body.

As Albus invaded his mind, the sense of his presence divided. It morphed into a multi-limbed creature, the tentacles of Albus's awareness skittering along the interconnected pathways of Severus's brain, each pursuing a particular memory.

A riot of images swirled across Severus's brain as the individual clusters of memory cells were carefully stroked and circled. He moaned as each one clamoured for his attention and waited for the first blow to fall, his anticipation seeming to suspend him in perpetuity between the two points in time.

Then one tentacle squeezed and

_\-- he is propelled along a long, dim hallway by the fist tangled in his hair. It jerks him sideways through a doorway, and the door clips the side of his head as he passes --_

heat bloomed in his ear.

Another squeeze

_\-- he is twelve, no ten, and bent bare-arsed over his father's desk. Thwap --_

and Severus gasped as the blow landed. A stripe of skin on his arse burned in sympathy.

Albus' spell constrained him, but its hold was intentionally light. Experience told him only a gentle repulsion would be needed to set him free. But he didn't want to escape and, indeed, his resolve had only faltered once before, when he had quailed beneath an assault of Potters.

A third squeeze

_\-- "A house elf could do a better job than you. In the future, young Snape, when I say I want to be able to see my face in them, I expect to be taken literally." The voice is cold and haughty, and he sees long, pale hair flash by when he turns to avoid the blow he knows is coming --_

and this time it was a blunt weight that crashed across his shoulders.

_\-- a cuff to his head, a lash to his back, the rasp of a breathless inhalation as fingers tighten around his neck, being bound - his splayed limbs pale and unlovely against an ebony table --_

He moaned and writhed within the kaleidoscope of memories, hard and aching, as each successive strike came faster, yet aware that these images were nothing more than foreplay. And all the while, somewhere beneath the more strident sensory input, he felt those fingers stretching him with maddening care.

_\-- "I'm the only one who knows what you need, Severus," a sibilant voice hisses. --_

He clung to the bedpost, his only response an unvoiced plea.

"I know, Severus," Albus said, withdrawing his fingers.

As he did, the arms within Severus's mind shifted as well, not pulling out but sliding sideways, snaking their way through his brain toward a different cache of memories.

He felt Albus settle behind him and ease his way inside, stretching him to a pleasant fullness. He closed his eyes in a futile attempt to shut out the mental pictures he expected to form when Albus began to thrust. However, the tentacles merely pulsed against the memory cells, this time, producing only an auditory memory with every stroke.

In

_\-- "Thank you, Severus," says Albus firmly. --_

Out

Only memories.

In

_\-- "My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," says Albus quietly. --_

Out

Each recollection of Albus' quiet disapproval seared as though it were a whip upon his flesh.

In

_\-- "if knowledge of Mr Lupin's condition is made public I will know whom to blame, and their fate shall be the same as Mr Lupin's." --_

Out

Shredding his defences as Albus berated him.

In

_\-- "I do not believe that a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," --_

Out

The coverlet twisted beneath his fingers, and someone, perhaps himself, gasped for air.

In

_\-- "I will settle, in the short term," says Albus, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "for a lack of open hostility." --_

Out

Albus thrust faster as they both hurtled toward completion. The memories began babbling at him.

In

_\-- "I do wish... didn't you consider... don't..." --_

Out

"Please," Severus cried out, seeking something as he chased his release -- something more elusive than the pliant hand that curved around his cock as he came. Nonetheless, he found himself arching into the pressure, letting it milk out the last drops of his pleasure as Albus's rhythm faltered with his own climax.

Albus collapsed against his back, and Severus trembled under his dead weight, feeling the great gusts of Albus's breath on his neck, and the rapid tattoo of his heartbeat. But eventually, despite his obvious exhaustion, Albus stirred. He sat back on his heels, pulling Severus with him, so that he straddled his thighs. His own chest heaving, Severus lolled backward against Albus, content to be supported through the lingering aftershocks. He curved his arm up behind him, fitting his hand to Albus's head, and Albus kissed the brand on his arm. More sweet, but welcome, kisses that claimed him as surely as the vow that tainted him.

They remained there together, still joined by flesh and synapse, until Severus noticed the way Albus's thighs shook beneath him and pulled up and off, and Albus slipped out of his mind, separating them completely.

Severus slid an arm around the old man's shoulders, helping him while he gingerly got to his feet, but then kept it there, murmuring soft apologies as he installed him beneath the covers. Fading phantasms sent random bursts of sensation across his skin. And he shuffled around the room, drawing the curtains and dousing the lights by hand, preferring, at least tonight, the slow dimming of the room to the shock of darkness wrought by magic.

"Thank you," Severus whispered as he climbed into bed and curled around his already slumbering lover. He toyed idly with the fringe of Albus' beard, soothed by the familiar feel of it bristling against his palm. As he eased toward sleep, he recognised that he drew as much pleasure from Albus' soft, night noises as any of his insubstantial aches. It was an unexpected revelation, and he pressed a drowsy smile against Albus' shoulder, grateful he had found someone who could fulfil all his needs.


End file.
